"Too much, I fear, for his own good, in a business way," replied Phil promptly. "I don't know as this strip of paper I am giving you will be any good to you," went on Burt, "but the singular way in which I got it made me treasure it as maybe a--a what you might call it? yes, a clew to something." "But what is it, and where did you get it?" inquired Phil, made very curious by his father's name coming up amid this strange and unusual environment. "It is simply a paper band marked in ink: John Warrington," explained Burt. "I found it with a band like it marked with my own name. The place I found it was in Jasper Bram's house." Phil started, and all kinds of curious speculations ran rapidly through his mind. "At Jasper Bram's house?" he repeated. "When did you get into his house?" "Night before last, when they were all away to town," replied Burt. "The truth is, I was hoping to find some papers that would tell me the truth about the right of Peter Bram to hold me as an apprentice--hoping to find out something about my father, who it seems disappeared when I was a child. There is some mystery about that, about me, and the Brams hold the key to it, I feel certain. Well," proceeded Burt, with a sigh of disappointment, "I learned little that was of any use, through my raid on the desk of Jasper Bram. There was a waste basket full of old documents, torn to little bits. It looked as if old Bram had been recently cleaning up his desk, destroying unimportant papers and putting his affairs in order, maybe for a move, or because he knew we were going to have a war." "It looks that way. Go on," urged Phil eagerly. "To me these two paper bands look as if they had held some papers that concerned your father and myself." "Why, it is a sure thing," declared Phil. "But if Bram has destroyed them--" "We don't know that. More like, if they have been of some value to him all along, they are of value now. I think he has selected what he wants to save, and has planted it somewhere for safety until he sees how the trouble in the colony is going." "This will be interesting to my father," murmured Phil, pocketing the strip of paper. "About yourself--I shall start back for Boston in a day or two. Be sure to come and see me." "I surely shall," promised Burt. "Good-by, I hope these people outside don't discover me." At this Burt slid down the plank that Phil had lowered, and landed in the tub. Phil tilted the board to a beam, and selected a big wooden cover from the cooper's stock. Not much more conversation passed between the boys. Phil had some difficulty in placing the cover on the tub. It was not easy to hold on to the rafters, and, progressing foot by foot, shove the tub with the pole in his hand towards the river end of the water runway. "Are you all right in there?" inquired Phil at last, as the tub began to whirl. "Right as a trivet," came the prompt reply in muffled tones. "Good-by, then!" "I'll see you in Boston--many thanks."